


The Master's Saga

by Annehiggins



Series: Jedi of Naboo [2]
Category: Star Wars Episode I: The Phantom Menace
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-25
Updated: 2014-05-25
Packaged: 2018-01-26 12:52:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,278
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1689014
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Annehiggins/pseuds/Annehiggins
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Qui-Gon's POV during the events of <em>Every Saga Has Its Beginning.</em></p>
            </blockquote>





	The Master's Saga

**Author's Note:**

> Written and posted to Master and Apprentice shortly after the movie first aired. It is also the only time I've ever done a second version of the same story, but I felt Qui-Gon needed to have his say, too.

**The Master's Saga  
by Anne Higgins**

'Keep your concentration here and now, where it belongs.' Qui-Gon Jinn had given his Padawan that advice hundreds of times over the years. Qui-Gon found his own words of wisdom left a lot to be desired when the here and now was telling him quite clearly he was about to die.

He tried to clear his thoughts, to meditate and re-gain some of his strength in the precious moments before the gate of red energy separating him from his Sith opponent cycled off. Almost as if to mock him, one of the glimpses of the future he always found so unhelpful skittered across his mind, and he saw a weeping Obi-Wan Kenobi cradling him in his arms. No, not a help at all.

Banishing the vision he centered his thoughts on Obi-Wan. He could feel the young man's fear for him flowing through the training-bond shared between Jedi Master and Padawan. He wished he had some words of comfort to offer, wished so many of their last hours together had not been spent in conflict over Qui-Gon's belief in Anakin Skywalker. Wished many things. But it was too late. The walls of energy were cycling off.

He knew Obi-Wan was too far back, that he would not make it to his Master's side before the walls re-activated. Common sense told him to retreat, to move toward his apprentice, not forward to a fight he knew in his bones he was destined to lose. But duty brought him to his feet, his lightsaber flaring to life in his hand, as the barrier vanished.

Poised on the edge of his fate, he stepped forward. He wanted to survive, wanted to end this battle quickly before the Sith could harm his beloved Padawan, but with the first clash of his glowing blade to his opponent's, he knew once again that he lacked the speed of youth needed to defeat this being.

In the split second between sight and reaction, he saw the fatal blow slipping between his defenses, saw the lethal red blade rushing towards his chest. But a flash of blue shoved it aside and up, leaving him unmarked.

Obi-Wan. How? ...

A scream of rage roared from his Padawan, and Qui-Gon found himself flying across the room, propelled by the Force and the strength of Obi-Wan's arm. He hit the wall, the impact driving the breath from his lungs, and Qui-Gon slumped to the floor, unable to do more than watch and struggle for breath while Obi-Wan fought alone.

Not that he needed his Master's help. Obi-Wan fought like a man possessed. No, it was more than that. He fought like a man who could see two seconds into the future and knew each of the Sith's moves in advance. A block, a parry, a thrust, another block, then a forward leap that carried him over his opponent's head.

Obi-Wan landed, then spun, his blade extended.

The Sith jerked, staggered backwards, then fell into the melting pit, his final scream something Qui-Gon would remember for a long time to come. Ironically, as the servant of the Dark Side breathed his last, Qui-Gon finally managed to draw air into his own lungs.

He started to sit up, but Obi-Wan was suddenly pulling him into his arms, tears streaming down a face Qui-Gon had always found breath-takingly beautiful. Which was precisely why Qui-Gon never trusted visions of the future. He'd interpreted his vision as grief, not joy and relief.

That damp, lovely face moved downward, pressing into the hollow of Qui-Gon's neck. His arms went around Obi-Wan and he could feel the boy trembling with emotion, then the sobs began.

He took a few precious moments to soothe him, to hold him, but for all they knew a battle still raged, and duty once more stirred. "Hush, Padawan," he murmured into the nearest ear, while he got both himself and his apprentice to their feet. "It is all right."

For a heartbeat he thought Obi-Wan hadn't heard him, then Obi-Wan released the grip on his Master's tunic.

Qui-Gon brushed the tears from the younger man's face, while he hid his own frown at the odd mix of emotions buffeting Obi-Wan. Joy, yes; relief, definitely. But there was much grief as well. It would have to wait. "Come, Obi-Wan, we are still needed."

*

Qui-Gon noted the sun was setting. Normally he would have paused to enjoy the spectacular view from the throne room, but he had other concerns at the moment.

The battle for Naboo had ended. Queen Amidala's plan had worked perfectly, although, as with most military strategies, the cost had been high. It seemed too heavy a burden for a fourteen year-old -- no matter how well trained -- to endure. But the girl he had known as Padme seemed calm, composed, saddened by the suffering of all those who called Naboo home, but strengthened by their liberation.

All in all, she was handling the events of the day far better than he was. He felt ... out of step. As if he no longer knew how he fit into the scheme of things. He also felt foolish. No doubt the two feelings were connected. He'd been so certain he was running out of time. It had made him even more abrupt with the Jedi Council, less willing to deal with the usual arguments over his perceptions and actions. A feeling that had peaked as he had waited to face the Sith.

Now he found himself on the other side of the battle, whole and well. The feeling of destiny no longer snapping at his heels. It all left him ... embarrassed and with much to atone for. But first. ... "I must apologize, your Highness, for the actions of my apprentice."

A slight smile touched her lovely face. "There is no need."

"I fear I must disagree. We do not serve for reward." He found it no easier to believe now than when it had happened. A grateful Queen had asked what she could do to repay the Jedi who had helped her save her world. And Obi-Wan ... had told her. Incredible.

"Do not be so swift to beg forgiveness. There has been great suffering among my people. Many would find it difficult to understand why their Queen would choose this time to purchase a slave," she told him.

Qui-Gon nodded. He did understand the situation. By asking her permission to buy the freedom of Shmi Skywalker in response to her question, Obi-Wan had given her the perfect protection against those who would say there were better uses for government funds. And no one could blame her for the offer -- protocol demanded it, while extending it to a Jedi had ensured no request would be made.

Except Obi-Wan had made it. Yes, Qui-Gon did understand, but the precedent it set would leave the Jedi Council with no choice but to censure the young man.

"Anakin needs his mother," she said, her face softening behind the make-up that often hid her emotions.

"Yes," he agreed, having come to the same conclusion himself. Anakin was not a baby who knew nothing of his parents. He was a nine-year-old boy who was afraid without his mother. Though it was against all precedent, she would have to be part of his training. Qui-Gon had planned to retrieve Shmi himself, but there was time to work within the Jedi Code. The woman would have been safe enough on Tatooine for the time being. What had Obi-Wan been thinking?

He sighed inwardly. His Padawan was far from rational when it came to the boy, and Qui-Gon had no one to blame for that but himself. He'd handled the situation badly. But he'd thought he had no time.

"It is my wish that you not chastise him over this matter." She looked uncomfortable a moment, perhaps feeling that she was meddling in things she did not understand. "You seemed so close when we left for Coruscant."

She did not add the obvious -- that they had been at odds since he'd brought Anakin aboard the Queen's transport. All his doing. No time. Yet, he found he had time. How had he misjudged things so greatly? "I will honor your request," he told her, but doubted the Jedi Council would do so. They might not even allow Obi-Wan to take the Trials, insist he remain a Padawan for the time being.

Qui-Gon had no great desire to go on without Obi-Wan at his side, but it had been made clear to him there was no other way to see that Anakin was trained in the Jedi arts. _Oh, Obi-Wan, what have you done?_

For a moment he thought Amidala had something else she wished to tell him, but instead she nodded – both an acknowledgment of their agreement and a dismissal.

He gave her a small bow, then took his leave.

Once out of the throne room, he stopped to think. Anakin was safely tucked away in the quarters Amidala had allowed them to use. It had been a long, hard few days for the boy. Qui-Gon expected he would sleep until late into the next afternoon.

Tomorrow afternoon. He could put off contacting the Council no later than that. A communication which should have been a triumph for Obi-Wan. He had fought bravely against the Dark Lord, saving his Master's life and defeating the Sith when Qui-Gon had failed. But one foolish answer to a question would diminish it all in the Council's eyes.

He had felt the hurt radiating off of his apprentice when Qui-Gon had announced he would take Anakin Skywalker as his Padawan. Obi-Wan was all too aware a Jedi Master could train only one at a time. He'd tried to reassure the young man that he _was_ ready for the Trials, ready to become a Jedi Knight. But the hurt had not left Obi-Wan.

Had Obi-Wan jeopardized his future as a Jedi Knight in the hope of remaining with him?

_Oh, Force, don't let it come to that._ Qui-Gon did not know how he could possibly choose – the boy he felt was the future of the Jedi or the young man who was everything to him.

He let himself focus on the training-bond every Master forged with his Padawan, the bond would end once Obi-Wan completed the Trials. It made him feel cold and empty inside to think of its loss, but it was part of a Padawan's passage into Knighthood. There was, of course, the alternative, a thought he'd clung to when he'd claimed Anakin as his apprentice, but now, sanity had returned to him. He could not allow it. Though it would break his heart to feel the shining brightness of his Obi-Wan fade from his mind until it was no greater than any Jedi's awareness of another, he could not allow himself to think of the other possibility.

Forcing back the sorrow threatening to choke him, he let his consciousness flow through the bond, reaching out to locate the young man. He frowned slightly when it led him out of the palace. Obi-Wan had seemed on the brink of collapsing from exhaustion in the throne room -- the defense Qui-Gon was already preparing against the Council's anger. He should be in bed. Resting, recovering from something Qui-Gon couldn't quite fathom, but knew had devastated his apprentice.

He had hoped Obi-Wan would have had the sense to know his own condition and retreat to their quarters when he'd left the throne room, but he should have known better.

Obi-Wan had taken no joy in his triumphant maneuvering of the Queen into extending an offer of thanks. Even as she had agreed, his head had bowed, his gaze fixed upon the floor. He had muttered something about seeing to the arrangements, then had fled without once meeting Qui-Gon's stare.

He was now either off making those arrangements or sulking. His frown deepened. He understood much of why Obi-Wan had violated the Code, but he would not tolerate his Padawan's being reckless with his health. Promise to the Queen or not, _this_ they would have words about.

Centering his awareness more firmly on the training-bond, he sought to pin point his errant charge. To his astonishment, he found the link fleeting and fading upward. No. It was not possible. He got out his comlink and contacted the hanger.

A brief conversation with the duty officer informed him the impossible was apparently possible. Obi-Wan had already left for Tatooine.

*

For several hours Qui-Gon was like a Maltorian swamp cat locked in a small cage. He paced, he snarled and the bars he battered against were the mental shields Obi-Wan had raised to block their training-bond.

There was no physical pain, but nothing had ever hurt more than the absence of Obi-Wan in his mind. How had he ever thought he could survive it? He would have it back, by the Force, he would have it back. But first he would have to get through those shields.

Obi-Wan seemed to fight with equal determination to keep him out. Oh, they would have words when that young man got back. Yes, indeed they would have words.

It was almost snapping at Anakin that brought him around enough to at least pull the thorn out of his paw when dealing with others who could not possibly know he was mentally fighting a battle. All blue eyes and blond-haired innocence the boy had asked him a simple question.

Qui-Gon had almost shouted at him. Instead, he caught himself at the last moment. Reacting without thinking of another's feelings was what had caused this rift with his Obi-Wan. It would do no good at all to repeat his mistakes with a child. So he'd calmed himself, dealt with the boy in a friendly manner, then resumed the attack the moment Anakin rushed off for yet another visit with the Queen.

He could feel Obi-Wan's exhaustion radiating through the blocks, and smiled, knowing he could break through. But the brief change in focus had restored some of his equilibrium, and he stopped himself from making that final push. This was not some fortress wall he had set himself on destroying, but his Padawan's mind – a mind that was troubled, hurt and exhausted.

He shook his head at his own folly. He would fight this battle – with every ounce of his strength – but it would be a battle of words, not a tempest he would send hurtling into Obi-Wan's brain.

/Rest, my troubled love. I will wait./ He knew Obi-Wan couldn't hear him – that was, after all, the point of the shields – but after his relentless barrage, he wanted to caress. /You need only reach for me./

Resolved, but far from happy, he tried to make himself useful and gazed out the window far too often.

*

Seven hours after Obi-Wan's departure Amidala found him staring out yet another window, gazing at the sky. "He has reached Tatooine safely," she told him.

"You've talked to him?" He had to admit it stung that Obi-Wan would answer her attempts to communicate, but he was hungry for news.

"Yes," she nodded. "I asked him to purchase Kitster and Wald. And their families, as well as Anakin's mother."

Two friends who believed in him as well as his mother added to the teachings and support of an old foolish Jedi Master. He nodded his approval. He would not have thought to go that far, but Amidala had an affinity for the boy. "How did Obi-Wan look?"

She glanced away for a moment, then met his gaze. "Tired. I doubt he slept during his journey."

_Seven hells of Sith, Obi-Wan, take care of yourself._ He didn't bother to send the exasperated thought along the link. Any touch would seem like the battle re-joined and he wanted his Padawan to relax enough to sleep, not tighten his defenses. Once again he wished he had followed his initial impulse and commandeered a vessel to follow Obi-Wan. But he was not a pilot as Obi-Wan was. And pilots were scarce after the battle, the skills of the survivors needed here to ferry supplies, not to indulge him.

"You love him."

He looked at her, into eyes that seemed to see everything and a face that encouraged honesty. And he was so tired of hiding it. "Yes, very much." He almost laughed at how good it felt to admit it to someone.

"Will Anakin and I share such a love?"

That made his right eyebrow arch in surprise. "What?"

"Anakin told me that he wasn't worried about himself or me during the battle, because he knew that we were going to marry one day." She gave him a long look. "You said he was strong with the Force. Was he telling me the future or a boy's daydreams?"

Qui-Gon shifted uncomfortably. "Foresight has never been one of my strong points, your highness." More a deliberate choice than anything else. Too often he felt the Jedi sacrificed the present by paying too much heed to visions of the future. So he'd opted to neglect the skill.

"I understand. But it is important that I know."

Something about her manner told him it was indeed important. "All right." He focused on her, on Anakin playing outside with Artoo Deetoo, then let go of the here and now. He might not have cultivated the skill, but he had something of a natural talent for it.

He saw many possibilities. In most Amidala and Anakin were together. One path which made him shudder in dread ended abruptly, like a growing flower snapped from its stem, and he was glad of it. But the message in the myriad of visions seemed clear to him. "From what I can see, your Highness, the most probable futures point to a long and happy life together." With the worst no longer viable. Would that he could say the same of his own future.

She nodded. "Then I will proclaim him my consort to honor his part in the battle."

Both eyebrows rose this time.

"Your apprentice was quite adamant that I keep Anakin on Naboo. That I insist you train him here." She looked at him. "Is there a better way to ensure this?"

Instantly Qui-Gon saw the sense of Obi-Wan's request. On Coruscant the Jedi at the Temple would sense Anakin's power and fear his differences. Here, he could grow and thrive without that preying on his mind. "No, not one that I can think of." In truth, it was perfect. As consort Anakin would have to learn his royal duties as well as the art of being a Jedi. He could not do both anywhere but here. "But I would not recommend it."

Brown eyes asked the question.

He sighed. "While I would say it is true you will eventually marry, you are both very young. There should be much between you and such a commitment." So many friendly affairs, so many light-hearted romances, how could one profess to love and take them away?

"You speak of Obi-Wan, not of Anakin or myself."

He almost blushed. He did not like being caught like that, but he opted not to deny it. "Youth is a gift. Not one such as I should ever interfere with."

"Would he agree?"

"No." He knew Obi-Wan had opted not to pursue even the most casual of encounters despite Qui-Gon's subtle efforts to tell him that a soul-hunger did not have to be the only love ever experienced. Damn fate anyway. Why could they have not met years from now? Aching for the soul-bond made him feel like a thief, stealing all of the beautiful young lovers his Padawan should have known, stealing his very life.

In a few more years Obi-Wan would be stronger in his connection with the Force, would have the experience with love to reassure both of them that he understood and wanted the soul-bond. In a few more years. ...

Instead a fourteen-year-old boy had come into his sexual awareness and. ... He'd heard it described once. A poem, some temple writing, a conversation – he couldn't remember where, but the words had flashed into his mind, when Obi-Wan had looked upon him that day. _When eyes meet eyes and soul meets soul._

They'd never spoken of it directly, but from that day forward, their souls had never stopped calling to one another.

"It is complicated," he told her.

She shook her head. "You mistake age for wisdom, Master Jinn. It is not always so." As her enemies had discovered. "Something inside me says that a day will come when a boy's crush will fade away and Anakin will look upon me as Obi-Wan looks at you. I believe it will be a most joyous of days."

He nodded, though rare, a bond could be initiated between a Jedi and a non-Force user. Anakin would have the power to make one. "Only five years separate you, your Highness. For me to have seen the day Obi-Wan called to me as joyous would have been an obscenity by the standards of almost every culture in the galaxy. Including my own."

"Yes," she agreed. "But he is no longer a child."

Qui-Gon looked away. He did not want to continue this conversation, was far from certain why he had allowed it to begin, but how could he keep the worst of it from her when she stood there telling him she was about to take steps that would make a bond with Anakin all but inevitable? No, he had to speak now, not years from now when it was too late, and there were other worlds where he could train Anakin far from other Jedi with opinions.

"Your Highness ... Padme, when the Force is out of balance, be it due to age or because one member of the bond is not a Force adept, the life energies become entangled. When Anakin dies, you will die."

Those large eyes regarded him for a long moment, then she asked, "Why would I wish to survive the death of half my soul?"

Qui-Gon had no answer for that. Not when the absence of a mere training-bond felt like a mortal wound. Not when he suspected a part of him had welcomed the notion of his death at the Sith's hands. Had welcomed it because he would never have to know the pain of losing Obi-Wan. For fate could often be unkind. While Obi-Wan and Amidala would not know the pain of losing half a soul, he and Anakin would not be so fortunate. _Selfish old fool._

She gave him a slight smile. "I have a proclamation to make, Master Jinn. Will you come and bear witness?"

"I would be honored." 'Take care, my Obi-Wan,' he thought, glancing one last time out the window in the direction of Tatooine. He did not send, and no response came. He followed Amidala to the throne room while his mind bled with emptiness.

*

One day passed. Qui-Gon spoke to the Council and received the stony silence, then the announcement that they would contact him again after contemplating the matter. All as he had expected. How was it possible to be the font of wisdom and so ridiculously predictable?

Palpatine returned to Naboo on the second day. The newly elected Supreme Chancellor arrived in his private ship all puffed up and basking in his triumph. He reacted with an equal rage when he was informed why 'the brave, young Obi-Wan Kenobi' was not present to welcome him.

Amidala put an immediate stop to that. "Senator Palpatine," she said in a regal voice dripping with displeasure. "Master Jinn and his apprentice have my highest regard. I would not look favorably on any action taken against them."

Qui-Gon considered the 'Senator' part to be a brilliant threat. A clear warning he could not be Supreme Chancellor of the Republic Senate if she were to dismiss him from his position as Senator from Naboo.

Ice seemed to settle in the room, but Palpatine calmed himself instantly. "As you wish, your Highness."

"You may return to your quarters, Chancellor." In other words, 'get out.' He got out.

Despite the strain of missing Obi-Wan, Qui-Gon gave her an amused, but admiring smile. "Well done."

She smiled slightly in return. "He was one of the appointees of my predecessor. I had not thought it necessary to replace him. I might have to reconsider."

"My instincts agree," he admitted. Something about the new Chancellor bothered him, but it was elusive and not outside the realm of personal preference. "But I always thought Valorum the better man."

Her gaze shifted to him, but there was no anger in it. "Do you think I erred in calling for a vote of no confidence in him?"

Qui-Gon shook his head. "You had no real choice, but I wish it could have been otherwise. If we'd only had time to disprove those rumors of corruption crippling his authority. ..."

She nodded. "I took no joy in disgracing him. Ironic that our actions here made it unnecessary."

But they had not known they could successfully liberate the planet when they had left Coruscant. They might have all been killed in battle, leaving Palpatine Naboo's only hope.

"A decision for another day, I suspect," she said. "It can do the Senate no good to unseat a second Chancellor in so little time."

He couldn't find a reason to disagree, but he found that would have liked one. "If your Highness will excuse me. ..."

"Certainly, Master Jinn."

He left the throne room and returned to his vigil at the window.

*

The morning of the third day dawned, and Amidala told him Obi-Wan was returning. The longest six hours of Qui-Gon's life began. The Force strong within him, surrounded by time pieces of every sort, his awareness of the flow of time should have been absolute, yet each minute seemed to stretch for hours.

Once he felt Obi-Wan. A wave a anguish and despair flooded through their bond before it abruptly stopped. He couldn't help but reach out. /Obi-Wan, please, let me in. Let me help you. Please./

Nothing. Tears were not his way, but a lump that threatened to choke him filled his throat. It amazed him he could even breathe as those eternal tortuous minutes ticked by

Finally, it was time to go to the hanger. Anakin hadn't been told anything beyond Obi-Wan was returning. No one had wanted the boy to suffer agonizing disappointment should Obi-Wan's mission fail. When it became clear it would not, the thought of his sudden joy upon seeing his mother made the notion of a surprise too attractive to resist. There had been so little happiness for so long on Naboo.

The official greeting party consisted of only Anakin, Amidala, her handmaidens and himself, but Qui-Gon knew many lurked about the bay wanting to catch a glimpse of the reunion.

A few scant minutes before the ship came into view, Qui-Gon felt a shimmer of Obi-Wan's presence. All the blocks in the world could not quite cut off Master and Padawan when distance grew short. An imperfect contact, to be certain, a pale dull thing compared to the closeness they normally shared, but his mind fairly gibbered with joy to feel it. /Welcome back, my Obi-Wan./

He did not expect or receive a reply, but neither of them would need to endure this silence for much longer. He was resolved on that. Council be damned, he would take Anakin as his apprentice, but he would not sever the training-bond between himself and Obi-Wan to do so. He. Would. Not.

Not for a second did he try to deny that he ached for more, but the soul-bond would have to wait those few more years. When Obi-Wan could match him strength for strength, they would join souls. He could not endure any other solution. Could not bring himself to face being the cause of his Obi-Wan's death or of living on without him. No. When all things were equal, he would surrender to destiny, but not now. He did not allow himself to consider any other possibility. Not even the notion that 'when' might be 'if.'

The ship settled into its berth, the ramp extended, then Kitster and the Rodian child, Wald, came racing down it. Anakin had only a moment to register his surprise at seeing them, when Shmi walked into view.

"Mom!" he shouted, his delight filling the bay with the warmth of a hundred suns. Anakin darted forward, throwing himself into her arms, both of them weeping tears echoed in the eyes of most who watched.

'Anakin needs his mother. I beg you, your Majesty, give me use of a ship to go to Tatooine and the credits to purchase her.' Such a wise man, his Obi-Wan. No one could see this and doubt it.

Qui-Gon's enjoyment of the scene before him ended abruptly when it occurred to him that Obi-Wan had not followed his passengers down the ramp. He took a step forward concentrating on the ship, then cursed under his breath. Cursed this Sith be damned reflection of a bond and his stubborn fool of an apprentice for avoiding the man who loved him. Obi-Wan must have taken another way off the ship.

Already he could feel the echo in his mind growing fainter, moving in the direction of the city. He did not hesitate an instant, setting off in pursuit.

It was not easy to follow. The echo was not their bond, and even the bond could be difficult at times to use to fix a location. More than once he had to stop and simply ask if anyone had seen a young man with a long braid. With alarm he heard one man tell him that yes, he'd seen him, had helped him up after he'd fallen. His graceful Padawan stumbling, obviously disoriented.

/Obi-Wan, tell me where you are!/ Over and over he called. Nothing.

Fear replaced alarm when a woman seemed confused about whether she had seen him or not. She told him that one moment someone had seemed to be there – all hurt and sick – then he was gone.

Sith! The boy had used the Force to cloud the minds of innocents! Had he lost all sense of reason?

/Obi-Wan!/

Abruptly the barriers dropped and a whirlwind of grief, despair and shame bombarded his mind. He staggered, struggling against the emotions, then centered himself. /Obi-Wan!/

Nothing but raw emotion, then the vague reflection of a vision formed. As if from a great distance, he saw himself lifeless upon a pyre, Obi-Wan all but dead with grief watching as the flames rose. Felt him struggle to reassure Anakin, who stood nearby, then. ...

/Master, no. .../ 

Terror swept through Qui-Gon, and he began to run. The intensity of Obi-Wan's emotions was so strong, it led him toward his Padawan like a beacon in a starless night. /Focus on the boy, Obi-Wan. He needs you. Stay with him until I reach you./

Psychic shock. He could see it now, see the signs blazing in his memories with the brightness of the flames trying to consume his 'body.' Obi-Wan could not fight this alone. His Padawan had a talent for sensing vague rumblings of trouble in the near future, but he'd never had a single vision. All the training in the world for the shock of one this all-consuming could not help without the practical experience of resisting the pull of lesser images. /Remember the boy!/

Obi-Wan gave no sign he heard him beyond turning to Anakin and whispering of regret. Then he stepped forward.

Qui-Gon burst into the crematorium in time to see his Padawan curling up on the cold pyre. His limbs floundered, trying to wrap around a bulk that was not really there, yet a peace seemed to settle over him.

"Obi-Wan!" Qui-Gon shouted, running to him. He gathered the young man into his arms, but locked in the grips of the vision, his Padawan fought him.

"No!" Obi-Wan cried out, his arms and legs flailing, his torso twisting. He reached towards the empty pyre and screamed, "Master, don't leave me!"

The anguish in his love's voice broke Qui-Gon's heart and his grip faltered for one moment.

Obi-Wan twisted free, scrambling back to the pyre, hurtling himself onto cold stone.

/Obi-Wan, I am not there. You must hear me. I am alive. Here with you./ He repeated it over and over again as he pried Obi-Wan away from the pyre.

_What price all your wisdom now, Master Jinn?_ He cursed himself for a fool, and did the one thing he felt certain could reach Obi-Wan. He kissed him. /Obi-Wan, you must hear me./

Lips parted, giving Qui-Gon hope, and he let his tongue move into the sweet warmth of Obi-Wan's mouth. /Hear me, Padawan. Let me in./

Awareness seemed to caress the young man, and for a moment, Qui-Gon thought he had won as the vision began to recede from Obi-Wan's mind. But the flames leapt into life again.

No!" Qui-Gon roared, seizing Obi-Wan's jaw, he jerked his Padawan's head up, so they stared into each other's eyes. "I am here, not there. Do you see me, Obi-Wan?" /I am here. With you. Alive./

"Master?"

Qui-Gon nodded, feeling sick with worry. "Yes, my Obi-Wan. I am here."

"But ... the fire. ..."

He felt the push of Obi-Wan's jaw as he tried to look back towards the pyre, but Qui-Gon held him fast. "Listen to me, Padawan. You are going into psychic shock. Do you understand? You must fight it or you will be lost."

He could sense the struggle within Obi-Wan. Awareness flickering in the sea green eyes he loved so well. Awareness that flickered and faded. /No, Obi-Wan! I beg of you, do not leave me./

That prompted a surge of anger. Brief, but definitely anger, giving him an impression of hurt and fury at the ease with which Qui-Gon had claimed another as his Padawan. Damned, fool, how could he ever think that had been anything less than the hardest thing he had ever done? He kept his own anger away from Obi-Wan's mind. Focused instead on trying to calm him, draw him back. /No, no, not easy. Never easy. But Anakin –/

"Is more important than me." For one moment, Obi-Wan was back with him. Aware, his focus perfect. "He will do well if you train him here. As for me. ..." /I think I prefer the flames to lonely fields./

Fields? What fields? Before he could make sense of it, he felt Obi-Wan surrender to the vision.

"No!" He reached through their link, gripping Obi-Wan's consciousness with the Force. /You are mine, Obi-Wan Kenobi. I will not let you go./

/Yours, yes. But cast aside. I am too tired to stay. Let me go to my Forever Sleep./

So this is what all those years of avoidance had brought them to. He knew what he had to do and despite his fear of it, there was an odd sense of relief in making the decision. He gave one last thought to all the carefree love Obi-Wan should have enjoyed before giving himself to an old fool who had thought he'd known what was best for them both. /By the Force, Obi-Wan, don't do this./ If they must join, he wanted to romance the boy, to seduce him with soft words and a comfortable bed beneath them. /Do not force me to. .../

Nothing.

Qui-Gon spat a particularly vile curse learned long ago on a backwater planet. One he reserved for special occasions, then he released his physical hold on Obi-Wan.

He pulled his robe off, then settled Obi-Wan on the dubious comfort it could offer. Quickly he stripped them both. The time had come. He shook his head slightly, his heart bursting with love for the stricken naked man. /As ever my beautiful Padawan, you make life a challenge./

Lowering himself onto Obi-Wan he began to kiss his neck, caress his torso. Using a thread of the Force to breech his Padawan's body, he let it stretch and open while he played with nipples and silken skin. As he'd known it would, the intimate touches snapped Obi-Wan's mind back to the here and now.

/No, don't do this. Don't sacrifice yourself for me./

Sith, now the man wanted to talk. /Shut up, Padawan. I am weary of fighting fate. And you are so beautiful. .../ He shifted, then pushed into Obi-Wan's body.

Beyond his fortieth-fifth year, the pleasures of the flesh were well known to Qui-Gon, but nothing had ever felt like this. One thrust and Obi-Wan glowed brighter in his mind, while his Padawan's body gripped the probe of his flesh tighter, hotter than any other lover had ever done. He groaned loudly and fought the urge to lose himself in the pure pleasure sweeping up his Obi-Wan.

But no. Obi-Wan could not reach out to meet him even a little of the way. The soul-bond was Qui-Gon's to forge. The giddiness of such power over another made him almost dizzy. A brief vision of a serene life with a completely obedient Obi-Wan at his side beckoned enticingly for a split second, but it was so completely the opposite of all he loved about the headstrong young man, that he almost laughed, then dismissed it without further thought.

Determined to do nothing but enhance their love, he set to work. He took Obi-Wan's soul into his. Caressed it, loved it, merge it with his own until nothing could separate them. Good, so good. Vaguely he heard himself moan in ecstasy.

He thought to surrender himself to it, then his mind's eye saw Obi-Wan's life force begin to merge with his. No. He fought it for a moment, but knew the battle was hopeless. As the soul's merged, so must their life energies. As the soul's merged. ... If he could not spare Obi-Wan from his fate, perhaps. ...

Life energies flickered, blazed, then joined.

With a shout of triumph, he came, spilling his seed into his bondmate's body, while a similar warmth flooded between them. He wanted to collapse and sleep for a week, but resisted the delicious idea. "Obi-Wan?"

His chest heaving from the intensity of his climax, Obi-Wan opened his eyes and looked up at him. "My love," he whispered, "I see you. Only you."

_Thank the Force._ He kissed Obi-Wan's forehead. "Sleep, my precious love. Sleep," he whispered, sending a gentle suggestion through their newly formed bond to make certain that for once Obi-Wan obeyed.

A soft sigh escaped the young man's lips, then he slept.

Reluctantly, Qui-Gon slipped away from him long enough to dress, then wrapping his love in the cloak he lay upon, he picked him up and carried him to the palace.

*

Qui-Gon used his special curse for the third time in two days. This time out loud. It got him an immensely satisfying shocked look from half the Jedi Council. Even if it was muted by the holoprogram.

He'd not expected this meeting to go well, but this was ridiculous. He glared at the small holograms and wandered precisely when they'd all grown so set in their interpretations of the Jedi Code that no other possibilities existed. Half of them wanted to send Obi-Wan off to the astro-fields – a possibility his Padawan had foreseen, but he had not. The other half wanted different forms of censure, most revolving around different time periods Obi-Wan must remain an apprentice. Which was complete nonsense. A Padawan was a Padawan for as long as necessary, not as a punishment.

His glance shifted to the foot high image of Mace Windu. The senior member of the Jedi Council had been one of the light-hearted romances of Qui-Gon's youth, and they had remained friends for decades. Mace had been the one to help him through the crushing despair of losing one apprentice to the Dark Side, had been the one who held him during one of the few times Qui-Gon had cried – that wretched day a boy half his age had called to his soul.

To his regret, Qui-Gon could not recognize the companion of his youth these days. "I will not be parted from Obi-Wan," he said firmly. That had been one of the other considerations – assigning Obi-Wan a new Master as his current one had not taught him well.

His hand rested on his lightsaber, the threat clear -- try it and count yourself short one Jedi Master. He found himself almost hoping Mace would take him up on his ... bluff? offer? whatever.

Force, he was tired of bashing his head against their short-sightedness. But he'd always thought he stood a better chance of changing things from within. Now he wasn't at all certain he wanted to try. Yet being a Jedi Knight was a dream shared by both Obi-Wan and Anakin. To bring it about, he needed to resist the impulse to fling his weapon at Mace's feet and stalk off. "I will not."

The tiny face studied him carefully, then nodded. "He will stay with you, but as to the rest. ..."

Qui-Gon resisted the urge to roll his eyes. "Didn't any of you hear me? Obi-Wan was in the beginnings of psychic-shock when he made that request."

He felt a stirring in the Force, a heightened awareness in the soul-bond he shared with Obi-Wan. /Good afternoon, my sleepy one./ Using the Force, he reached out and caressed his bond-mate's cheek.

"Understand you, we did," Yoda said. "Agree it excuses his behavior, we do not."

/It feels like it should be morning, Master./

Qui-Gon kept careful rein on his temper. Losing it any further with the Council would do little good, and he did not want Obi-Wan troubled with this yet. "You know as well as I do that one who does not have visions cannot properly defend against them." /I am your lover now, Obi-Wan. What ever the future may bring, I have no desire to be your Master in this./

"Come to you, he should have."

/Yes, of course, Qui-Gon. Where are you, my love?/

_In one of the hells._ /In the communications center. I will return as soon as I can. Take the time to refresh yourself and eat something./ 'There is no temper, there is serenity,' he paraphrased the damned Code. "He felt he could not. You all witnessed the reason why. That is my failing not his."

/Yes, Master./

Force he loved that young man. /Imp./ He gave Obi-Wan another caress, then closed the link before his emotions could contaminate his lover's mood.

Ki-Adi-Mundi started to open his mouth. Qui-Gon fixed him with a glare. The Cerean member of the Council had been the most adamant about Obi-Wan's need for a new Master. His look gave the man pause, then Qui-Gon returned his attention to Mace. Deal with it, he said with a glance, then put them all on hold so he didn't have to hear the bickering.

He ordered a tray of food sent to the rooms he shared with Obi-Wan. A thick, nourishing soup, bread and a dessert Amidala had forced on him when he'd resisted eating during Obi-Wan's absence. It had reminded him of Alderaan gessa root, a treat his Padawan particularly relished.

He glanced at the communications panel. Had they finished arguing? Did he even care? Deciding he was in dire need of some serenity, he settled in the middle of the floor. Sinking into a meditative state with a near perverse sense of satisfaction, he tried to pin-point again when things had gone so wrong. When had the Code ceased to become a guideline? When had it become a choke hold so strong that only those with a rigid view or a masochistic love of conflict could sit on the Council? The answers as ever eluded him. But seeking them calmed his anger, replacing it with sorrow.

Anakin was the Chosen One. He was certain of that. And the need for a sense of balance in the Force was great, but he feared the monumental task before the boy. Could any one being do it? And at what cost?

/You do love me./ The voice sang into his mind, banishing growing despair. All hope existed when that brightness glittered.

He smiled. /Madly. Now eat./

A Force caress answered him.

His Obi-Wan's immediate needs taken care of, Qui-Gon turned his attention to the boredom factor. He knew all too well that bored Padawans had a tendency to overdo things. Qui-Gon smiled as the solution came to him, then took out his comlink. "Ani?"

A moment, then Anakin answered, "Yes, Qui-Gon sir?"

He smiled. That was fast becoming Anakin's reference to him. It sounded like one word – Qui-Gonsir. Perhaps a Padawan need not address him as 'Master.' And it was difficult to imagine calling anyone but Obi-Wan 'Padawan.' But time enough to dwell on that later.

"Obi-Wan is awake. Why don't you go see him, keep him company for a while?"

"Do you think he wants to see me?"

"I think he would enjoy a visit from you a great deal. Just make certain you don't stay too long and tire him."

"I won't. Bye!"

Deciding he had stalled as long as he dared, he reached over and re-engaged contact with Coruscant.

*

Irritated beyond measure at having gained nothing but the Council's concession to reflect further on the problem, Qui-Gon stalked back to his quarters. Nothing but a bunch of Sith spawned, narrow minded. ... The door opened and his tirade trailed off.

Now there was a sight to take the edge off any day. Obi-Wan slept in the center of their bed, his limbs in a fairly wanton sprawl. The display was inspiring and his cock twitched. But even better, sleep and food had restored the color to his Padawan's face. He seemed to glow with health and beauty.

Far too irresistible to be left in peace, but first Qui-Gon decided to rid himself of this miserable day. Stripping off his clothing, he showered, letting the gentle vibrations of the sonics soothe some of the tension from his body.

The Council had ordered him to re-establish contact tomorrow at which time they would expect to speak to Obi-Wan. He'd informed Amidala – it was after all her communications systems that they kept using. She had insisted they use the equipment in her throne room for the meeting, saying that it would send a clear message to the Jedi Council about her feelings on the matter.

Qui-Gon appreciated the thought. Knew Obi-Wan would be touched as well. But the Council would not care. It was a matter of preventing precedent from being established and a threat to the Code as far as they were concerned. There was little hope of a favorable outcome. He shook his head. Yoda had been his Master, Mace his friend and lover, yet he could not make either of them listen. If he could not influence them, what hope had he with the others?

No way to deny it, he stood on the brink of that choice he had dreaded – Anakin or Obi-Wan. But there had never really been a choice. The only thing left to decide was who could be Anakin's Master if things worked out the way he expected them to. It wasn't difficult to figure out, and a smile curved his lips. Staucha. His first Padawan. She was his friend and she owed him for the very fact that she had been his Padawan.

Qui-Gon had considered himself far from ready to assume the title of Master when Staucha's Master had been killed on a mission. Not yet ready to face the Trials, she had asked him to guide her through the final year of training all felt she needed. Her friend and lover, he already had a faint bond with her, and she had been unable to endure the notion of establishing the deeper training-bond with anyone but her slain Master. He had agreed, and she had become a fine Jedi Knight, then Master in her own right. The last time they'd met, she'd mentioned she would soon be recommending her current Padawan for the Trials. That meant she would be available by the time Anakin completed his remedial training.

Better still, she had the same sort of defiant streak Qui-Gon was infamous for. She even had better reason given that much of the galaxy tended to view the females of her species as consorts, not Jedi Knights. Having battled expectations all her life, she would not fear dark visions nor allow them to taint her relationship with Anakin.

Yes, she would be perfect. Satisfied he had his answer, he shut down the shower.

When he returned to the bedroom, Obi-Wan was restless. Without even thinking about it, he found himself peering into the nightmare upsetting his love. The pyre. For a moment he was alarmed, then Obi-Wan's emotions touched him. The images were disturbing him, but no more than any other nightmare. The danger would not return.

Relieved he went to Obi-Wan, stretching out on top of him as he kissed those delicious lips.

A smile rewarded him, and sea green eyes gazed up at him with open adoration. /Not alone. Never again./

Saddened by what they would face tomorrow, the smile he offered in return was unworthy of the radiance in his arms.

The happiness faded from his gorgeous eyes. "I'm sorry, Qui-Gon. I know you did not want this."

He blinked. What? "Not want this? Make no mistake, my love, the ache in your soul was always echoed in mine."

"I don't understand. If that's true, then why –?"

It was not the reason his heart was heavy, but he saw little cause to worry Obi-Wan about the Council. There was nothing further either of them could do, but face their judgment. And they did need to talk about the soul-bond. "I am more than twenty years older than you."

"Age matters n--"

The last thing Qui-Gon wanted to hear was variations of the wit and wisdom of Yoda. Two fingers across his lips silenced Obi-Wan. "In this, it does. You know it does."

Obi-Wan kissed his fingers. "My love will keep you young."

Yes, it would. He would not age until Obi-Wan had aged another twenty-four years. An extended life not something he'd ever sought, the only joy he took in that particular side effect of the soul-bond was the added time he would have with his Obi-Wan. "My love, you were too weak, too disoriented to actively participate in the bond. I was unable to prevent your life force from becoming irrevocably entwined with mine." Not that this would surprise Obi-Wan. It had been all but inevitable even if his Padawan had been at full strength. But there had been the tiniest hope it might be otherwise. He kissed Obi-Wan. "You will not live one heartbeat beyond my own death."

The pleasure that radiated from the young man beneath him at that pronouncement amazed him. "I'd go mad if it were otherwise."

Ah. He could well understand that fear. "Then you must find it in your heart to forgive me."

"What is there to forgive?"

"I could not keep our life forces apart, but I could balance them." Another kiss. /I will not live on without you either./

A brief glimmer of horror passed through Obi-Wan, but calm quickly replaced it. /You love me that much?/

/Yes. You are everything. The greatest joy of each day has always been your shining brightness within my mind. Now, more than ever. My beloved Obi-Wan, we will always be together./

/Then all is how it should be./ He kissed Qui-Gon.

Nice, very nice. He wanted more and slipped his tongue between the lips claiming his own. Their desperate love-making in the crematorium had saved the sanity of the man he loved and bonded their souls forever, but tonight, tonight was for his beloved imp. The young man who deserved nothing less than a life full of love and laughter, for that was what he gave to Qui-Gon.

He teased him with his beard and hair. Tickling his skin with the long strands until he giggled like a little boy. When the squirming body beneath his stilled for a moment, he swooped lower and captured the hard shaft in his mouth. Obi-Wan screamed and arched up off the bed. Then he laughed.

Delighted, but unable to resist the urge to tease, Qui-Gon thought, /Not exactly the reaction I was going for./

/Sorry, but it feels so good./

/It gets better./

Obi-Wan moaned loudly, and Qui-Gon chuckled around his cock, making him squirm. Clasping those wiggling hips with both hands, he suckled on the tasty flesh in his mouth, but it made him hungry for other pleasures and he began to probe with the Force.

Confusion trickled through the bond. "What–?"

He smiled around his treasure. /The Force has many uses, young Padawan./ Yes, it was good to be the Master. He sent swirls of energy into Obi-Wan, caressing him, stretching him, until the young man's moans became a siren call no amount of control could ignore. Shifting upwards, he positioned Obi-Wan's body, then entered him.

His thrusts eased by the liquid waves of energy, he gave himself over to pleasure and wrapped himself in all that was Obi-Wan. It would all work out. Somehow. He could not doubt that. Not when they were one.

*

Qui-Gon had no reason to doubt that assessment the next day. One look at the Council had told him that once again the twelve of them would live down to his expectations, but Obi-Wan made him very proud.

He spoke quietly, explaining what had happen without defiance or shame. He had simply done what had to be done. "I am sorry, Masters," he finished. "I await your judgment."

Mace Windu looked at him. "It is obvious to us that you are not ready for knighthood, Padawan Kenobi. Master Jinn's request that you undergo the Trials is therefore denied."

Such a waste.

"Great potential we saw in you," Yoda said. "See it still we do. Remain a Padawan you will for at least three more years."

_Oh, my Master how could you be so blind?_ Force grant that there would not come a day when Obi-Wan would look upon his former Master with such complete disappointment.

He was not surprised at all when Mace, concluded, "You will both return to Coruscant."

Obi-Wan obviously was. "But ... Master Jinn must remain here. He must train Anakin."

"Trained the boy will be, but more than one Padawan a Master may not have." Yoda's tone had that 'you should not need to be told that' quality. It had always made him cringe as a Padawan. Now it merely irritated him.

"The Queen requested Master Jinn. She might not accept another."

"Unfortunate that would be. Untrained he will go or separate you must."

Again with the new Master threats. How many times were they going to have to listen to this? His growing anger ended abruptly at the alarm he sensed radiating from Obi-Wan. He stepped forward, his hands coming to rest on his shoulders while he sent love through their bond.

At the same time he gave Yoda what he hoped was a withering glare. "We cannot be separated. Obi-Wan is too inexperienced to handle the strain of having two Jedi Masters bonded with him."

Yoda did not mistake his meaning. "You have soul-bonded with your Padawan."

"Yes."

Yoda glared back, and he felt Obi-Wan flinch, prompting him to send another love touch into his mind.

"Unfortunate. Two Padawans you may not have."

This was getting them nowhere. He was tired of arguing and a chat with Staucha would put an end to the problem of Anakin's training. He would have liked to have done it himself, but Obi-Wan came first. "I will speak with the Queen, convince her to accept another Master for Anakin."

"No!" Obi-Wan shouted, spinning around to face his Master. "You must train him. Force, can't any of you see that?"

"Calm yourself, Padawan." /My love./ "He is strong with the Force. He will thrive with any Master."

Obi-Wan shook his head. "You're the only one who really believes in him." He turned back to the Council. "All your collective wisdom, and none of you have ever heard of a self-fulfilling prophecy?"

No. Neither that nor the notion that change was life; stagnation, death for any philosophy.

The despair radiating from Obi-Wan disturbed him. Qui-Gon wanted this ended and Obi-Wan away from them. His hands tightened on his Padawan's shoulders. "We will return to Coruscant as soon as we can arrange transport."

Mace nodded. "Then we will turn our attentions to who should best serve as the boy's Master."

They could think all they liked on the matter, if Staucha claimed Anakin, they would accept it. Their beloved Code gave them no other recourse when a Master with no Padawan stepped forward.

"No." Obi-Wan spoke so softly it bordered on difficult to hear, but there was a firm resolve behind the near-whisper that commanded attention. "No, Master Jinn, must train him."

Obi-Wan moved into his embrace once more, reached up, then drew his head down to kiss him. /By the love you bear me, trust me in this. It _must_ be you. No other./

He stepped back and out of Qui-Gon's reach. Drawing his lightsaber, he said, "Anakin Skywalker will be a great Jedi Knight one day." He dropped to one knee before Mace's hologram. "I will not." Obi-Wan reached back and with one strong cut severed the knight tail. He placed the hair and the lightsaber at the image's feet. "I am no longer a Jedi."

Standing, he walked toward the throne room door.

The urge to shout 'you can't quit, I'm quitting' was very strong, but he held his tongue. /Obi-Wan?/

/This is my home now. Look to what is best for the boy and stay with me./ He smiled slightly, then left. His mental shields raised to block any further conversation. Obi-Wan's way of giving him the privacy to follow his own heart.

Qui-Gon took a deep breath, let it out, revised his plans – if it was that important to Obi-Wan they stay on Naboo, then they were staying – and turned to face the Council.

This time he wasn't subtle. He snatched his lightsaber from his belt and held it out. "We will stay on Naboo. I will train Anakin with Obi-Wan's help. I will do this with or without your approval. Which is to be?"

Mace gave him a hard look. "You cannot hope to win each day with that bluff."

"I am not bluffing." In truth he couldn't say for certain he had ever bluffed. Some things were simply more important than being a Jedi. The most important one had just walked out the door. "You have made a mockery of much of what I believe in and hurt the man I love. Don't sit there and expect me to cower at the thought of no longer being a Jedi."

He gave each one of them a glare, then said. "Make your decision, but make certain you understand what it is you are about to decide. You may have a degree of input in what Obi-Wan and I do here or not, but we will honor the Code in our own way. Choose."

With that, he sank to the floor and meditated, his lightsaber on his lap.

Time passed. He really didn't know or care how much. He would have liked to make plans, but he was angry enough for calming himself to take priority. He'd not quite achieved anything resembling serenity when Mace interrupted his attempts. "Qui-Gon."

He opened his eyes, but did not rise. "Yes?"

There was an equal lack of serenity in his former lover's eyes, and he knew a rift had been opened between himself and the Council that might never be breached. A part of him mourned that. He loved Yoda dearly, had great affection for Mace and respected, even liked the others as individuals. But collectively, he found himself hard pressed not to think of them as fools.

"We expect to be kept informed."

So he had won. He looked at the knight's tail and the discarded lightsaber. Quite a hollow victory, but a victory nonetheless. He opted not to make things worse. "As you wish, Master."

Mace snorted, then broke contact. The twelve holograms vanished, leaving him alone.

He got up, walked over to what Obi-Wan had left behind, then picked up both the hair and the weapon. He had to smile slightly over his lack of regret about the hair. Though it had pleased him to tell Obi-Wan he could grow the unofficial symbol of impending Knighthood, he'd always thought it looked rather silly on everyone. And he liked his Padawan's short hair. Except for the braid. He liked how the braid looked. He might even ask Obi-Wan not to cut that off.

He slipped his bondmate's lightsaber into his tunic. For Obi-Wan to carry it now that he was no longer a Jedi would be out of the question. It was the very symbol of a Jedi and only one with no integrity at all would mislead others in such a manner. He mourned that. Obi-Wan with a lightsaber in his hand had a special kind of lethal beauty. He consoled himself with the thought the young man could still use it to train Anakin, still drill with Qui-Gon to make certain his old Master didn't get soft and slow.

Now what? In one dreadful conversation he and Obi-Wan had gone from guests to residents of Naboo. Amidala would have to consulted about their living arrangements, and –

/It hurts!/

A cold, soul-numbing agony exploded through the bond, robbing him of the ability to think, to do anything other than run with all the Force-enhanced speed his body could endure. Obi-Wan! Obi-Wan!

Horrific as the sensations flowing from the young man's mind were, they lead him straight to his stricken bondmate. He rounded a corner and found Obi-Wan in Palpatine's arms.

A single glance told him Obi-Wan was on the verge of collapse, but something about the Chancellor's hold on him alarmed Qui-Gon almost as much as the pain.

"No, I--" he heard Obi-Wan protest.

"Obi-Wan!" Qui-Gon called, covering the last few feet separating them with a more non-Jedi level of speed.

His bondmate jerked away from Palpatine, then stumbled a few steps into Qui-Gon's embrace. Fury all but consuming him, Qui-Gon turned a glare on the Chancellor few expected to see on the face of a Jedi.

He saw a moment of startlement in the other man's eyes and felt a brief flash of ... mental shields arranging themselves. Shields of an impressive power level. The impression vanished so quickly Qui-Gon could almost believe he had imagined it, but at the same moment, the attack on Obi-Wan's mind ceased. Which made it all too obvious that it had been an attack, not a condition brought on by the aftermath of psychic shock.

Careless. Very careless. He kept his knowledge off his face. Better to leave his Dark counterpart wondering if he'd fooled Qui-Gon or not. He allowed only his concern for Obi-Wan to cool his protective fury.

Palpatine's brief shock vanished. "Ah, Master Jinn, I was about to take the boy to the healers. He seems very ill."

"My thanks, Chancellor." He lifted Obi-Wan up into his arms, and the young man snuggled up against him like a small child. "I will see to his care."

Palpatine nodded. "I should prepare for the Celebration. I hope your charge recovers enough to join us."

Qui-Gon ignored him. Or at least as much as it was wise to ignore a deadly predator within striking distance. Instead he started toward their quarters and focused on sending a wave of warmth to heal the lingering hurt in his bondmate's mind, then had to smile slightly as Obi-Wan found a way to snuggle even closer. /He is the Sith./

Something suspiciously like pride at his bondmate's cleverness fluttered through Obi-Wan's mind. /Yes, Qui-Gon. And he seeks a new apprentice./

Hells. The Dark bastard had tried for Obi-Wan. Well, he wasn't going to get him. Then another thought occurred to him. /We must keep a careful eye on Anakin./

/Then you will stay./

If Obi-Wan had been feeling better, Qui-Gon would have given serious consideration to dropping him on his ass for doubting him. /My place is with you, my Obi-Wan./

A brief moment of contentment gave way to alarm, and Obi-Wan's hand shot to Qui-Gon's waist, then fingers closed on the hilt of his lightsaber.

He suppressed a chuckle, then brushed his lips across Obi-Wan's temple. "I did offer it to them. I told them I would stay here and train Anakin as a Jedi Master or as one who is considered a master of the Force." He used some of that mastery to open the door to their rooms. "They were far from pleased, but I believe they hope to keep some control in the matter by allowing me to remain a Jedi."

/Control Qui-Gon Jinn? I suppose there is a first time for everything./

/Imp./ Qui-Gon lowered him onto the bed, then lay down himself, curling up around Obi-Wan. /My precious imp./

"Don't worry, my love. I am well." /I needed only your touch to heal the hurt./

/I see the need for caution, Obi-Wan, but don't you ever let someone hurt you like that again./

"Yes, Master," his tone was dry, but loving.

Amused at how easily a title of respect could be used to put him in his place, Qui-Gon fixed him with a mock glare. "Are you always going to call me that when I try to make you see reason?"

"Probably."

"Imp."

"That's 'precious imp' to you."

"Hmm, more like impossible brat." /But a beautiful one./

Obi-Wan smiled and snuggled closer.

/Sleep, Obi-Wan. I will wake you in time for the festivities./

/I am tired, but we should discuss Anakin./

/Later, my sleepy one. The most important thing has been decided – we will train him together./

He smiled. /Yes, but he is not the only one who needs us./

Not the only one? /What do you mean?/

/What could Palpatine's apprentice have been other than one like Anakin? Someone who was not identified as strong with the Force until he was deemed too old for Jedi training. How many others are like that?/

Obi-Wan nuzzled Qui-Gon's throat with the tip of his nose. "We must find them." /We must train them to use their gift wisely. Show them there is something more to the Force than Jedi servitude or the depths of the Dark Side./

Qui-Gon listened to the words, heard them, but ... could it be?

/Qui-Gon?/

Incredible. He _had_ found the Chosen One, but not as he'd expected. /I was wrong, wasn't I?/

/About what?/

/Anakin is not the Chosen One./ He pressed a kiss against the top of Obi-Wan's head. /You are./

Now Obi-Wan went still, considered the words, then thought, /You were not wrong, my love, but ... sometimes you get a second chance, and that changes everything./

/You will bring balance to the Force./

/No, we will. Together./

Yes, together. Wouldn't that thrill the Council – Qui-Gon Jinn half of the Chosen One. The very thought of their reaction put him in a marvelous mood. /Sleep, my Chosen One. Sleep./

Obi-Wan obeyed, leaving Qui-Gon to plan. First, they would need a place to use for a Temple. ...

end

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [[PODFICs for] Jedi of Naboo series by Annehiggins](https://archiveofourown.org/works/2248572) by [rippleeffect](https://archiveofourown.org/users/rippleeffect/pseuds/rippleeffect)




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